The Matchmaker
by Moonlit Seductress
Summary: FINISHED Can a 16 year old girl, adopted by the 4077 family, bring together a denying couple while finding love for herself?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I have been talking with Fox…I offered them everything I own, and a few things I don't, in exchange for M*A*S*H, but they aren't going for it. Negotiations continue. I do, however, own Victoria, she's my creation, she's got my name. Please don't steal her. 

Before you yell at me for having multiple stories running, just think – more slash for everyone! 

By the way, I think I've uncovered a long standing M*A*S*H mystery – how old is Hawkeye? In the episode "Sometimes You Hear The Bullet" – one of my favourites, so sad – Tommy Gillis says he and Hawkeye have know each other for 15 years, since grade 5. If we assume that Hawkeye was the normal age of 10 in grade 5, then 10 plus 15 is 25. So I conclude that Hawkeye is 25 years of age during the first year of the war. Just thought you might be interested. 

The Matchmaker

Chapter 1: Meet The New Girl

"Ah, nectar of the gods," Hawkeye announced, settling onto his bunk with a glassful of torpedo juice. Across from him, Trapper grinned. "Finest kind," he agreed, raising his glass in toast. "Cheers," Hawkeye said, before knocking back the martini. He coughed and wheezed for a while, finally managing to choke out, "Smooth."

Shaking himself, Hawkeye rose to his feet, strolling out the door of the Swamp. Trapper followed lazily, pausing to return a stray football, sending the ball spiraling perfectly towards Father Mulcahy, while Hawkeye headed for the grassy field beyond the camp. 

As he lay back in the warm, golden grass, Trapper by his side, Hawkeye closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to just disappear among the grass, and never return. The next minute, however, he was sitting bolt upright, head tilted to one side, listening intently. 

The grass rustled loudly, close by. As Hawkeye stood, gazing about warily, a flash of purple ran past him, towards the camp. "What the hell?" he mused out loud, staring at Trapper, who shrugged. They walked back to camp, at a rather brisk pace. 

A young girl stood at the signpost, hovering indecisively. She was petite, dressed in a long black skirt and flowing purple shirt. At barely five feet tall, she had a certain air about her – almost as though if she really wanted too, or had too, she could knock you on your ass. 

"Hi honey, can we help you?" Trapper asked, always on the watch for a pretty face. Hawkeye shot him a disgusted look – the girl looked to be about 14. She turned, studying the captains with bottomless black eyes, the perfect match for her smooth, pale skin and short – cropped black hair.

"I'm not sure," she replied, her voice pleasantly melodious. "Could you tell me where I am?" Trapper shot her a grin. "Sure, honey. You're at the 4077th M*A*S*H. I'm Trapper John McIntyre, and my silent friend here is Hawkeye Pierce."

The girl regarded them with amusement. "Cool names," she commented, eyes flashing over Hawkeye, who still stood motionless and silent. "My name is Victoria Sheppard, by the way." She offered a hand to Trapper, who raised it to his lips. "Pleased to meet you."

"What are you doing here?" Hawkeye demanded, finding his tongue. Trapper elbowed him. "Excuse my friend here, he majored in crudeness." Victoria laughed. "That's OK; it's a reasonable question." Hawkeye frowned. "Well, do you have a reasonable answer?" Trapper glared. "Hawk…"

Raking a hand through her hair, Victoria sighed. "Actually, I'm not sure how I got here. All I remember is waking up in that field." She pointed to the field where she had been running. "I thought I might come here, so you could tell me where I am. Something's wrong though, I think, because the last thing I remember was Tokyo…something tells me I'm not in Tokyo anymore." Hawkeye gaped. "I hate to burst your bubble, but you're in Korea. In the middle of a war."

As if to confirm Hawkeye's announcement, there was a piercing whistle, followed by an explosion. "See, bombs and everything!" Trapper shouted. "C'mon." He grabbed Victoria's hand, pulling her after Hawkeye, who was headed for the nearest tent. 

They stumbled into the Supply tent, as another shell hit, closer this time. Hawkeye rolled his eyes in disgust as he recognized where he was. "Why the hell do I always head for the stupid Supply Tent?" he groaned, sliding to the floor and burying his face in his hands.   "The dumb door always get stuck shut, and I know that, but I always come in here. Why can't I ever run for the nurses shower?"

Victoria poked interestedly at the supplies. "Wow, I've never heard of some of this stuff…I can't even pronounce this one…what does M*A*S*H stand for anyways?" Trapper, who was stretched out on the floor, staring at the ceiling, looked up. "Mobile Army Surgical Hospital," he replied. "You guys are surgeons?" Trapper nodded. "Hey, can I hang around here? My mother was a surgical nurse, she taught me the basics. I was staying with her in Tokyo, she worked at Tokyo General. I would have stayed back home, but there were no relatives to take me in. My mum was killed a month ago." Hawkeye looked at the young girl, blue eyes wells of sympathetic comfort. He knew what it was like to lose a mother. "What about your father?" he asked. Victoria shrugged. "He left before I was born. He didn't want a kid…he and my mother were only 18 – two years older than me - when I was born. Mum didn't like to talk about him."

Hawkeye stared. This girl of 16 was alone in a strange, war torn country. Her mother dead, her father unknown, and yet she seemed to have a positive outlook. "What do you say, Trap?" he asked, grinning at his friend. "Can she help us?" Trapper nodded. "We can always use extra help in OR. Henry will say OK, but Majors Burns and Houlihan won't like it."

"When do Hot Lips and Ferret Face ever like anything we do?" Hawkeye countered. "Good point," Trapper agreed. "Now, onto more important things. Where are we gonna keep her?" Hawkeye mused. "We have an extra cot in the Swamp, she can stay there," Trapper offered. Hawkeye shook his head. "No way. We both know that nothing would happen, but Henry wouldn't like it, and Frank would hate it. He call us perverts now, imagine what he'd say if we had a 16 year old girl in our tent."

Victoria made a face. "The Swamp?" she asked. "Our tent," Hawkeye replied. "Home to fleas, rats, lice…and then there's us…and then Frank." Victoria laughed appreciatively. "Sounds like my room," she commented. 

Hawkeye stood. "Sounds like the shelling has stopped. Let's go talk to Henry." The trio walked out of the Supply Tent, preparing to map out the life of a young girl.


	2. Chapter 2

Hawkeye, Trapper, and Victoria walked into Radar's office to find the young clerk fighting his way through some requisitions. "That looks complicated, Radar," Hawkeye commented, peering over Radar's shoulder. "Do you understand any of it?" Radar shook his head. "I try not to, sir," he replied. "It makes things more difficult." Hawkeye grinned. "Knock off the sirs. Is Henry in?" 

Radar glanced up, his eyes finding Victoria, who was twisting a lock of hair around her fingers, looking more than slightly nervous. "Captain Pierce to Corporal O' Reilly, come in Corporal!" Hawkeye called, tapping on Radar's forehead. "Uh, yeah, Colonel Blake is, uh, in his office." Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He strolled into Henry's office, followed by Trapper and Victoria, who paused to favour Radar with a smile. Radar collapsed in his chair, his knees suddenly seemed to be made of jelly. "Wow," he muttered. 

"Hi Henry," Trapper and Hawkeye offered simultaneously. "Yo," Henry answered, from his position, slumped over his desk. "What's wrong?" Hawkeye asked, mildly concerned, but trying not to show it. "I have the hangover of the century," Henry moaned. Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "Here I am, thinking it was something important. C'mon, fearless leader. Business to attend to." Muttering about busybody surgeons bursting into his office, Henry raised his head with great effort. 

"Well now, who is this lovely young lady?" he quizzed, sitting a little straighter as he noticed Victoria, standing slightly behind Trapper. "Her name is Victoria Sheppard," Trapper answered. "Her mother was a surgical nurse at Tokyo General. She was killed a month ago, and somehow, Victoria ended up here. We were wondering if she could hang around – anybody is a help in OR. Victoria, this is Lieutenant Colonel Henry Blake."

Henry scrubbed his face. "How old are you, sweetheart?" he asked. Victoria straightened, snapping him a salute. "16, sir," she replied. "You don't have to salute me, honey," Henry told her, shaking her hand. "You think you can be of some use to us?" Victoria nodded. "My mother has taught me the basics of surgical assistance, Colonel. I know I'm nowhere near as good as any of the fully qualified nurses, but I could assist in emergencies, and I could sterilize instruments and such."

Henry nodded absently. "She wouldn't be staying in the Swamp now, would she? Cause Majors Disaster and Calamity would not approve." Trapper shook his head. "No. We thought she could stay in the VIP tent. When we have visitors, she can bunk in the Swamp."

"And if Frank objects, we'll threaten him into cowering," Hawkeye commented. Henry adopted a slightly pained expression at this announcement, but said nothing to Hawkeye. "OK then, I guess she can stay." Hawkeye and Trapper cheered slightly, as did Radar at the door. As the trio left the office, Radar snagged Hawkeye's sleeve. "Who is she?" he asked softly. Hawkeye grinned suggestively. "She tickle your fancy, Radar?" he asked, winking. Radar frowned. "Maybe. What's her name?" 

"I'm not going to tell. You talk to her yourself, get to know her a bit." He left, still grinning. 

As Hawkeye, Trapper, and Victoria headed off to the VIP tent, Frank and Hot Lips waylaid them. "Pierce, I want to talk to you about something," Frank snapped. Hawkeye sighed. "What, Frank?" 

"Your conduct in the OR today was not only disruptive, it was unbecoming an officer, and extremely - "

"Frank, why don't you put your little speech on tape, it'll last longer," Trapper suggested. "I mean, don't you think that you might get through to us if we hadn't heard this crap about 100 times already?" Frank gasped. "I hardly think that - "

"Stop right there, Frank," Hawkeye offered. "You hardly think. That about sums it up."

Frank glared, his eyes flickering from Hawkeye to Trapper, and coming to rest on a bemused looking Victoria. "Who's she?" he demanded brusquely. Trapper frowned. "Her name is Victoria Sheppard," he supplied. "Well, what's she doing?" Hawkeye looked Victoria up and down in a suspicious manner. "Standing," he reported. 

"What the Major means is why is she here?" Hot Lips snapped. She, too, had been eyeing Victoria, but with distaste – she obviously did not approve of the younger woman's outfit – or whole persona. 

Victoria held the nurse's eyes steadily, until Hot Lips looked away, lip curling in disgust. "I'm going to be helping out in OR, Major," she answered, saluting. Returning the salute out of reflex, Frank and Hot Lips stared. "What? But you're not army personnel – it's against the rules!" Frank argued. 

Hawkeye grinned. "We don't play by the rules," he said gruffly. Trapper and Victoria burst out laughing, while Frank and Hot Lips stared at each other helplessly. 

By the afternoon, Victoria was introduced to the camp, and settled in the VIP tent. As night settled over the camp, there was a tentative knock at the door. "Come in," Victoria called from the depths of her closet. 

Radar stuck his head in the door. "Miss Sheppard?" 

Victoria grinned, emerging from the closet. She had been hoping to see the corporal again – he had a sort of innocence that was really cute. "You can call me Victoria, Radar."

"Right, um, Miss Victoria," he stumbled. Victoria smiled. Close enough. "I uh, just wanted to make sure that you didn't need anything," Radar said, staring at his feet. "No," Victoria commented, looking around the tent. "I think I've got everything I need. Thanks anyways."

"Uh, no problem," the young man stammered, before turning and almost running out of the tent. Victoria grinned. A challenge…

The next morning, Victoria walked out into the bright sunshine, gazing around the camp. A voice called out behind her. "Torey!" She stopped dead. "Torey?" She turned to find Trapper running towards her, apologetic look on his face. 

"Hi," he greeted, coming to a stop at her side. "Sorry about that. I had a girlfriend named Victoria, and I used to call her Torey."

"My mother used to call me that," she replied, slightly pale. "When I heard you, I thought, for a split second…well, you know." He nodded. "I'm really sorry." She shook her head. "No, I've missed it. You can call me Torey if you want to. It just…came as a shock, that's all." Trapper grinned sympathetically. "Hey, where'd you get fatigues?" he asked, looking her up and down. She shrugged. "No idea. They were in my tent when I woke up this morning."

"Ah," Trapper said knowingly. "Radar." Victoria frowned. "I missed him," she exclaimed in dismay, then blushed. Trapper winked. 

"Hello all." Hawkeye's voice called. He was strolling nonchalantly towards them, one arm securely anchored around the waist of a young nurse. Victoria caught the brief flash of disappointment in Trapper's eyes, and smirked inwardly. "Hi Hawkeye," she returned. 

"How was your first night in Chez Cockroach?" he asked. Victoria shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Nothing abnormal." Hawkeye grinned. "This whole place is abnormal," he announced, gesturing around at the already noisy camp.  "If anybody isn't abnormal, then they must be normal, and that's just not allowed."

"I'll fit in perfectly," Victoria quipped, drawing a laugh from both captains, while the nurse glared daggers. Most of the nurses had been glaring at her when they were introduced, Victoria noted. Hot Lips wasn't the only one. She wondered why – she hadn't done anything to them. 

Shaking her head free of the swirling thoughts, she grinned at Trapper. "So, what passes for food around here?" she asked, grasping at this lucky chance to fit in somewhere.

***TBC***

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

I'm too lazy to put a disclaimer on this chapter – you all know I don't own them anyways, so why bother. I'm slightly upset – "Abyssinia, Henry" was just on…*sniff*…which means no more Trapper, which means little inspiration for my stories. I'll have to watch my tapes more often. Anyways…

Chapter 3

As they got in line for breakfast, Hawkeye's nurse coldly removed herself from him, joining three more nurses at a table, who all whispered, staring at Victoria. Hawkeye made a face as she left, while Trapper grinned slightly. "You know something, Trapper, I think you're jealous," Hawkeye announced loudly, just to pick a fight for the entertainment of the troops. Trapper grabbed the string dangled in front of him firmly. "Me, Trapper John McIntyre, jealous? You mock me, sir." As the two captains continued their "argument", Victoria joined Radar and Henry at their table, flashing a smile at Radar as she sat across from him. Radar returned the smile as Hawkeye and Trapper clattered over noisily to the table.

"You guys are nuts," Henry informed the grinning surgeons. Hawkeye slung an arm around Trapper's shoulders. "Right," he confirmed. "Bananas, crackers and nuts." He and Trapper shared an indulgent look, remembering the scene in Margaret's tent. Watching Trapper lean slightly into Hawkeye's light embrace, Victoria shook her head. Both men were so dense – they were obviously perfect for each other, but they were just too proud – or frightened – to admit it. 

Later that morning, Victoria walked into Radar's office, brain reeling. Trapper had just given her an extensive tour of the medical buildings, loading her up with info. They were expecting casualties within a few hours, and Trapper was giving her a rough idea of what she would be doing. She sat in the desk chair, studying the complicated switchboard in front of her. The door banged open behind her, and she twisted to see who it was.

"What are you doing here?" Frank demanded. Standing quickly, Victoria saluted. Looking annoyed, Frank returned the salute. "Nothing, sir, I was just looking at the switchboard," Victoria answered. Finding nothing to bust her on, Frank looked around. "Is O'Reilly here?"

Radar hurried into the office. "You wanted to see me, Major?" Frank frowned. "No, I just…oh, never mind." He stormed out of the office, leaving Victoria doubled over with laughter. Radar stared. "What did he want?" he asked. Victoria stopped laughing long enough to answer him. "To get me in trouble. He and Major Houlihan don't like it that I'm staying here, and they'd like to get me kicked out." Radar looked aghast. "That's horrible!" he exclaimed. "From the impression I get, the majors aren't the nicest people," Victoria commented, resuming her study of the switchboard. "How the hell do you use this thing?" she asked. Radar smiled. "I'm the only one in camp that knows how," he admitted shyly. 

As if to prove his point, the phone trilled. Flipping some switches in rapid movements, Radar picked up the phone. "4077 M*A*S*H," he answered. After a few nods, "uh huh's" and "yes sirs", Radar hung up and nearly smacked into a livid Major Houlihan. Veering out of her path, he rushed into Henry's office. "Sir, that was Regimental. We're expecting an enemy attack!"

Henry slowly let the message sink in, before whirling into action. "Tell Major Houlihan. And get Torey in here, I need to talk to her." Most of the camp personnel had taken to calling her Torey, they just seemed to adopt it. She pushed open the doors. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Regimental called. We're expecting an enemy attack and I've gotta ship the nurses out. You've got two choices – you can go with them, or stay here with us. I strongly advise you to evacuate - if we are attacked, it won't be pretty." 

Victoria almost said that she would go with the nurses, until she remembered the cold looks she had been receiving. "I think I'll stay here, sir, if that's okay. If there are casualties, you're going to need all the help you can get." Henry nodded. "I agree."

Victoria was in her tent that night. It was extremely quiet – everyone was at the Officer's Club, drowning their nurseless selves in alcohol. Captain Spaulding had been playing his guitar, but no more music floated from the club.  She sighed. She was the only female left in camp, except for Fluffy, Radar's rabbit. Leaving the tent, she headed in the direction of the O – Club. 

As she opened the door, whistles and catcalls rippled through the room. Trapper frowned protectively, but Victoria grinned. "You can look, but don't touch, boys. I'm young enough to be your daughter – or your sister," she shot at some young G.I's. 

Someone started the jukebox, and one of the young corpsmen asked Victoria to dance. After about an hour, she had danced with almost all the men – even Frank gave up his grudge temporarily. Back in Radar's tentative arms, she sighed. It was rather nice to have all these guys fawning all over her – not something she would like to be permanent, but nice all the same. 

As the time grew later, the club emptied slowly. Victoria sat with Radar at the back of the room, nursing a Coke. Trapper and Hawkeye – both slightly drunk, but sober enough to know what they were doing – were slow dancing, cheek to cheek. Perhaps subconsciously, Trapper's arms were locked around Hawkeye's waist, while Hawkeye had one hand twined through Trapper's curls. Victoria smiled. They made such a picture perfect couple – the honey brown head next to the black one providing some contrast, the closeness in height making it easy. 

The two captains stumbled back to the Swamp, slightly ahead of Victoria and Radar, who were walking hand in hand. At the door of the Swamp – Henry advised that she sleep there tonight, just in case – Radar leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on her lips before disappearing into the night. Grinning, Victoria walked in to find Hawkeye and Trapper having a nightcap. She slipped unnoticed into the extra bunk, watching them closely.  

She woke shortly after 3, hearing Radar's knock and call of "Choppers!" Sitting up quickly, she noticed that Frank was gone, and both captains were still sleeping. Sharing Trapper's bunk, bodies entangled, they slumbered blissfully, Hawkeye's arms wrapped tightly around Trapper. Hating to wake them, she shook Trapper gently, and as usual, he jumped slightly. "Choppers, Trap," she told him, before disappearing. 

***TBC***

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

14 hours later, Trapper, Hawkeye and Victoria left the OR, yawning. It had been a hard shift – especially without the help of the nurses. Victoria had been rushed off her feet the entire session, bouncing from doctor to doctor to help with things they just couldn't do alone. She had also learned a lot more than her mother had been able to teach – it's one thing to demonstrate, but it's another to be actually doing the stuff – with enemy shells making it that much worse. 

That night, boredom reigned over the Swamp. Trapper was tossing playing cards at a helmet, he and Victoria cheering every one that landed inside, Hawkeye was flipping idly through a nudist magazine, and Frank was performing his nightly beauty ritual, clucking all the while. 

Exasperated, Hawkeye threw down his magazine. "Shut up, Frank, before I glue your tongue to your hat," he threatened. Undaunted, Frank continued his clucking, stopping to glare at Trapper and Victoria, who had been cheering the last card's landing. Fed up, Hawkeye chucked a towel at Frank, who turned and threw his shaving brush back. Hawkeye picked up his pillow, but his aim was off, and the pillow smacked Trapper in the face. Victoria, Frank, and Hawkeye found this amusing, until Trapper flung Hawkeye's magazine at them, knocking Frank's hat off his head. Frank threw his pillow at Trapper, while Victoria grabbed a container of baby powder, shaking the contents over Hawkeye's head. The Swamprats emerged from their lair, covered in baby powder, and laughing, Frank included.  

But the good cheer was short lived. More wounded arrived, this session lasting far into the night. At just past midnight, Hawkeye's last patient was brought in. "Oh my God," he exclaimed hoarsely.  The person lying on the table before him wasn't a wounded G.I., or an officer with shell fragments, or even a North Korean prisoner. It was a little American girl, all of five years old, her small chest a mess of blood soaked bandages. Victoria and Margaret, who were assisting, gasped as the little girl's eyes fluttered open – eyes that were the same colour as her doctor's. One set of eyes flooded with tears, and it wasn't the wounded child's. 

"Are you an angel?" she asked Hawkeye softly, making him smile bitterly with her innocent words. "No, sweetheart, I'm a doctor. I'm going to make you feel better." 

"Am I going to die?" Hawkeye reached out to stroke her blonde hair, dampened with red from a head wound. "Not if I have anything to say," he promised. Her eyes slid shut as the nurse placed the mask over her tiny face. 

Hawkeye worked furiously, biting out commands with uncharacteristic ferocity. Suddenly, the nurse looked up. "I'm losing the pulse." Hawkeye stared. "No. No, no, no. I'm not going to lose her, damn it!" He clamped off another bleeder, and pumped in the blood rapidly, glancing at the nurse, who shook her head. "Nothing." 

"Move," he snapped to Victoria and Margaret, who stepped out of the way. Hawkeye pumped the small chest with as little pressure as necessary. Victoria stole a glance at the other doctors, who had all stopped working to watch Hawkeye struggle with this tiny life. Trapper and Henry were white – they both had children the same age. Margaret was trembling, Father Mulcahy was praying, and even Frank had stopped to watch. 

"Come on honey, don't let go, it's not your time yet," Hawkeye pleaded. Tears streaming down her face, Victoria reached out to take the little girl's hand. She felt a slight squeeze, and then the hand went limp in her gentle grasp. The nurse pulled away. "She's gone."

Hawkeye stepped back, eyes never leaving the small, still face before him. Trapper glanced down at his patient, up at Hawkeye, then at Henry, who nodded. "Take care of him," he ordered, voice shaky. Trapper glanced at Victoria, who released the girl's hand and helped Trapper lead Hawkeye out of the OR, back to the Swamp. 

Inside the tent, Trapper led Hawkeye over to his bunk. He blinked – and then collapsed, Trapper catching him to keep him from falling. He shook with silent sobs, as Trapper held him tightly. "Oh my God," he gasped between sobs. "She was just a baby, just a baby…"  

"I know, I know," Trapper soothed, gently rocking back and forth. "You did all you could, you know that." Hawkeye pulled away, wiping at his eyes. "But it wasn't enough. I couldn't save her. God, what kind of a surgeon am I? I let five year old children die…"

Trapper gripped his shoulders. "Hawk, you did all you could. Not one of us could have done anything more to save her. You did your best – she just couldn't handle the trauma. It was her time."

Sensing that she was intruding, Victoria got up and returned to the OR. "How's Hawkeye?" Henry asked, as Victoria joined him at his table. "Not good," she replied. "He thinks it's his fault." Henry shook his head. "He takes things too personally, lets things eat him up. It's going to be the death of him one day."

As the session wound down, Victoria returned to the Swamp. Hawkeye was sleeping, wrapped in Trapper's arms, Trapper stroking his hair with one hand. "You didn't have to leave, you know," he said. Victoria shrugged. "I had a feeling I was intruding. Besides, Henry needed my help."

Frank clattered noisily into the tent, customarily sneering at Victoria. Startled, Hawkeye woke up, opening bloodshot eyes. "What is it?" he asked, sitting up. "Just Frank," Trapper answered dryly. Hawkeye scrubbed his face with his hands, Trapper's arms still curled around his waist. "What's the matter with him?" Frank demanded, staring at Hawkeye. "We all lose patients, Pierce, even you."

"You're the resident expert on losing patients, Frank," Trapper snapped. "Well, at least I haven't killed any children." Frank grinned triumphantly. 

Hawkeye stared up at Frank for a full minute – before leaping to his feet. Frank screamed, rushing out of the tent, Hawkeye in hot pursuit, Trapper and Victoria chasing after Hawkeye. 

Frank veered around a confused Radar, as did Hawkeye and his entourage. Cornered, Frank whirled to find Hawkeye glaring down at him. "I am going to kill you, Frank," he threatened, voice cold. "You wouldn't," Frank retorted, not sounding very sure of himself. 

"Try me."

Trapper stumbled behind Hawkeye, slightly winded, while Henry, Margaret, and various others poked their heads out of buildings to see what was going on. Trapper reached out for Hawkeye, who pulled away. "Hawk…Hawkeye, c'mon." Ignoring Trapper's pleas, Hawkeye slowly advanced on Frank, who shrunk back. 

Suddenly, Trapper grabbed Hawkeye from behind, pinning his arms to his side. Frank scuttled away, not looking back, while Hawkeye struggled in Trapper's grip. "Don't make me hurt you, Trap," Hawkeye warned. Trapper laughed. "Empty threats, Hawk," he scoffed, keeping his hold on Hawkeye. 

Eventually, Hawkeye gave up. Temper cooled, he returned to the Swamp and his bunk. 

The nurses returned that week, to the joy of the males, and the chagrin of Victoria. She made friends with Ginger Bayliss, who was also ostracized by the other women, for obvious reasons.

"They hate you for quite a few reasons," Ginger told Victoria. "You're young and beautiful, you've got talent in the OR, you're intelligent and opinionated and strong. But mostly, they hate you because of the relationship you have with Trapper and Hawkeye. They see you as one of the guys, not as a girl, so they're more at ease with you. Most of the girls here would kill to have a relationship like that with the two best looking doctors in Korea."

Victoria walked back to her tent that night, pondering this. Sure, Hawkeye and Trapper seemed to be more at ease with her, but that was how they were with everyone. They were naturally easygoing people, but they did seem to treat the women they went out with like china dolls, that would break if handled too roughly.

Time went by, and nothing really changed. Frank was avoiding Hawkeye at all costs, spending most of his time holed up with Hot Lips. The nurses continued to snub Victoria, who ignored them, and Hawkeye and Trapper continued to ignore their feelings for each other. Victoria and Radar were officially a couple now, and Radar was ecstatic. He had only had one girlfriend before, and she had dumped him shortly after he arrived in Korea. Most of the nurses dismissed him as a kid, so he really couldn't believe that someone like Victoria wanted to be seen with him. 

"If there's one good thing about Radar and Victoria going out, it's that Radar actually bathes more than once a year now," Hawkeye quipped, drawing a mock glare from the younger man. Both captains were extremely happy for Radar, and were constantly offering advice, which Radar ignored.

And then disaster struck. A surgeon at Battalion Aid was killed, and Hawkeye, Hot Lips, and Klinger were recruited to go down and help the other doctor. The camp seemed abnormally quiet that day. Everyone was somber, and morale was low, as the energetic captain's antics were sorely missed. Trapper paced around the entire camp, looking rather lost. Frank hovered between the Swamp and Margaret's tent, Henry just sat at his desk, and Radar spent most of his time sitting in silence with Victoria. It was painfully obvious just how much those three people contributed to the outfit. No one to crack jokes, no one to chastise the nurses, no one to slink around on guard duty in a red evening gown and high heels. 

As night approached, the camp grew even more silent, the chirping crickets making the only sounds. Victoria was curled on Trapper's bunk, book in hand, staring at that same page for about an hour now, while Frank came in and out, and Trapper paced around the Swamp, muttering under his breath.

On one occasion, while Frank was in the Swamp long enough to speak, he chewed Trapper out, ordering him to "sit down before I go to Colonel Blake." A relatively mild complaint – it was easy to see that Frank was too worried about Margaret to really get mad. 

In another bout of uncharacteristic behaviour, Trapper actually obeyed Frank, sitting next to Victoria and dropping his face into his hands. Having finally realized that she hadn't turned a page for over an hour, Victoria tossed the book towards her bunk, curling up on her side, knees drawn in to her chest. Her dark eyes glittered in the half-light that permeated the Swamp walls – the same glitter that most people had in their eyes. A glitter of unshed tears, waiting to spill if need be. 

As Trapper emerged from his hands, his eyes holding that same glimmer, he smiled ruefully at the sight just behind him. This was no place for a 16 year old, he thought again, for about the one-millionth time since Victoria first arrived. She was far too young to be witnessing the horrors of war – they were all too young, even up to the oldest, toughest general. 

He slipped in behind her, so her back rested against his chest, beginning a gentle rhythm on her hair, the same position he had held Hawkeye in, a month ago. This time, the intent was different. That had been a reason to hold Hawkeye, feel their bodies together – yes, to comfort, but more to just revel in the closeness. This was different, comforting all the same, but in a different sense, more that of an older brother protecting his sister from the monsters in her closet. Except that now the monsters were out in the world around them, and they were very, terrifyingly real. 

Frank returned, and silently went to his bunk. Again, the only noise were the crickets chirping away, Trapper wryly noticing how easily they went about their worlds. At least they didn't suffer when they were eaten – and neither did their families. A soft knock at the door interrupted these thoughts. 

Radar appeared, face pale and looking faintly tear streaked. His unasked question was answered as Trapper nodded towards Hawkeye's empty bunk, a wistful expression on his face. Radar threw his girlfriend a sad smile, not seeming to care that she was wrapped up in another guy's arms. Trapper peered over her shoulder – he thought she had fallen asleep, but a quick look showed that she was still awake, the traces of the returned smile still lingering on her face. She had grown very close to both captains during her three months at the camp, and was now just as apprehensive and frightened as those who had known Hawkeye for over a year. 

In the darkness of a Korean night, 197 people held a collective breath, wondering if their three missing people would ever return to the place that needed them so.

***TBC***

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	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 5

A jeep rolled into the camp, the three occupants singing together, abnormally tolerating each other. During the ordeal they had been through, Margaret, Hawkeye, and Klinger all gained a new respect for each other. 

Trapper jerked into a sitting position, from his coil on Hawkeye's bunk. On her own bunk, Victoria moved in a similar fashion. They exchanged joyful looks. "They're back!" Trapper dashed out the door, Victoria on his heels, Frank trailing behind, joining the excited crowd milling around the jeep. Hawkeye was pulled into a brotherly hug by Trapper – a hug that a few people saw for what it really was – while Victoria embraced Klinger. The corporal and teenager had forged a close, though unlikely, bond. Victoria found Klinger's eccentricity a fresh change, and Klinger found a wealth of fashion advice in the young girl. Frank was already at the door of Margaret's tent, while she paused to talk to Hawkeye, who was still in Trapper's arms.

Breaking away from Klinger, Victoria headed for Hawkeye, but stopped when she saw Radar. Her boyfriend didn't want to break the moment between Hawkeye and Trapper – he was another who saw the chemistry between the two doctors. Luckily, Hawkeye noticed Radar, and pulled away from Trapper to give Radar a hug, before turning to Victoria. 

"Hi," he greeted, swinging her around. "Hi," she replied breathlessly, as her feet met the ground. She stole a glance at Trapper. He looked happy and relaxed, in a way he hadn't since Hawkeye had left. 

Hawkeye was followed around all day, taking time to speak to everyone. He flirted with the nurses, bothered Frank, and spoke to Margaret with a respect that was a surprise to everyone. Finally, Hawkeye, Trapper, and Victoria were in the Swamp. Frank was welcoming Margaret back, so the tent was quiet.

Hawkeye was stretched out on his cot, talking about the front line experience. Trapper was sitting next to him, drawing idle patterns on his leg. Perched on her own bunk, Victoria smiled. She noticed that Trapper had touched Hawkeye as much as possible through the day – leaning against him in Post – Op, pausing in his work to reach out and touch Hawkeye's hand, almost as though if he didn't maintain contact, Hawkeye would disappear again. 

Suddenly, the door banged open, and Frank stomped in. Hawkeye smirked. "Hi Frank," he said. Victoria and Trapper cued in. "Hello Frank." Frank swiveled. "A lot you know," he snapped. "You're back early," Hawkeye commented innocently. "Something…happen? Or is it what didn't happen that's got you all riled up?" Frank glared. "Shut your mouth, Pierce. Just what did you and the Major do up at the front?"

Hawkeye stared up at the olive – drab ceiling. "Uh…we operated…and ate…and slept. That's about it." Frank look confused. "Then why is Margaret talking about how "nice" you were?" Hawkeye shrugged, shooting Trapper and Victoria a grin. Frank left, looking worried. 

The hour grew late, and Victoria slipped under the covers. Trapper and Hawkeye were talking quietly, and the steady murmur of their voices lulled her to sleep.

She woke not long after, a frantic whisper jolting her from sleep. "Not here, not now. There's a 16 year old girl sleeping five feet away!" Peering out from under the blanket, she wasn't surprised to find Hawkeye and Trapper, joined at the lips. Trapper was pulling away slightly, and Victoria knew it was he who had whispered. 

Throwing off the blankets, she stood. The two men sprang away from each other. Grabbing the blanket, Victoria left, throwing both of them a knowing smile. She headed back to the VIP tent, leaving them in privacy. 

The next morning, there was a light knock at the door. "Come in," Victoria called, quickly pulling her shirt over her head. She had just brushed her hair back into order when Hawkeye and Trapper ducked in, both looking slightly nervous. "Hi guys," Victoria greeted. "Hi," Trapper replied. Victoria motioned to the bed, as she sat at her desk, brushing her hair. 

"Now I know you didn't come here just to say hi," she commented, carefully brushing the knots from her thick hair. Hawkeye looked down at his hands, which he was twisting in his lap. Trapper nodded. "You're right. We wanted to talk about…about last night,"

"Look, what you guys to is your own business. No one has a right to tell someone else how to live his or her life. The least I could do was clear out." Trapper smiled tentatively. Victoria smiled back, then looked at Hawkeye, who was still twisting his hands. She reached out to touch his shoulder, and he looked up, blue eyes clouded. 

"You know, you really mean a lot to us," Hawkeye said softly. "But…if you don't want to associate with us anymore, we'll understand." Victoria shook her head, wrapping her arms around Hawkeye's neck. "I love you, Hawkeye, I really do, but sometimes, you're just too dense. What goes on behind closed doors doesn't change the way I feel about you. Either of you," she said, glancing at Trapper. She pulled away from Hawkeye, putting her brush back on her table. 

"Besides," she continued, shooting the doctors a grin, "You look really cute together."

They exchanged disbelieving looks, then grinned at her. "Come on. Let's get some food."

***TBC***

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	6. Chapter 6

Time slipped by, and soon it was a year since Victoria had appeared at the 4077th. Things were going well – Hawkeye and Trapper were happy, Radar and Victoria were happy, and neither couple really cared about the prejudice they faced. 

One warm summer day, Radar rushed into the Swamp, frantic and pale. "Something's wrong," he announced to the occupants of the tent. Trapper swatted away Hawkeye's hand, which was inching up his leg. "What?" he demanded. 

Radar frowned. "I don't know. Something…something just doesn't feel right." Trapper frowned as well, his expression mirroring Radar's. "I know what you mean," he commented, gazing around at the eerily quiet camp. "Where's Victoria?" 

"Down by the creek. She had some laundry to do."

Hawkeye had finally noticed the strangeness of the air around them. "Go get her," he said quickly. Radar nodded, turning and leaving. Hawkeye exchanged a look with Trapper, who shook his head. "I don't know, Hawk, but something is definitely wrong." Hawkeye nodded slowly.

They waited apprehensively for Radar's return. Suddenly, the door burst open, and Radar stumbled in, looking as pale as they felt.

"She's not there!" he exclaimed. The three men hurried out of the Swamp, breaking into a run down to the creek behind the camp. They slid to a stop on the empty bank, staring about. The wind whistled loudly, the only sound, except three frantic, calling voices. 

Hawkeye suddenly stopped dead, face draining of all remaining colour. "Something's happened!" he shouted. Trapper and Radar ran towards him, Trapper noting his dead white face and violently trembling hands. "What is it?" Trapper demanded. Hawkeye shrugged. "I don't know. All of a sudden it got really - "

"Cold," Radar interjected. "I feel it too. Oh God, I hope she's OK." He turned and ran back to the camp. Trapper stood, staring about the empty fields, before following Hawkeye's slow pace back to the Swamp. 

They went inside, and Trapper grabbed a blanket, wrapping it and his arms around Hawkeye, who was shivering. 

Night fell, and still there was no Victoria. Radar was hysterical, Hawkeye was silent, and Trapper was angry – at what, he didn't know. Henry had refused to allow Radar to go and look for the missing girl, and Radar had gotten mad, lashing out at Henry. He was sleeping now, sedated by Trapper, who was watching him idly. But it was late, and soon, he drifted off…

He woke with a start. Post Op was black as pitch, and as quiet as a cemetery. Suddenly, there was a gentle breath of air, that breezed over Trapper, bringing the scent of lilacs with it. Lilacs, he thought dimly. Victoria had always worn lilac perfume, and used lilac shampoo: Radar always said that she reminded him of a garden. The scent returned, almost caressing his hair. He could have sworn he felt the touch of lips on his cheek, and a soft voice whisper "I love you" – and then it was silent again, and the lilacs were gone. 

Jumping to his feet, Trapper quickly pushed open the door between Post Op and Radar's office. Radar was sitting up in his bed. He turned to meet Trapper's gaze. "She's dead," he said, emotionlessly. "The lilacs," Trapper thought out loud, before turning and walking to the Swamp. He met Hawkeye at the door – Hawkeye with an emptiness in his eyes, and the word "Lilacs" on his lips. 

The next morning, the M.P's returned with a slender body on a litter. Her dark hair was soaked with blood, her face was pale, and her chest was still. Trapper's breath caught in his throat as he noticed the cluster of purple flowers in one slim hand. He stepped back as Radar and Henry approached the stretcher, Radar's dead eyes startling him. 

They buried the 16 year old girl under the lilac bushes she loved to visit. Radar spent long, uninterrupted hours sitting by the small cross that marked her grave. He slipped into a deep depression, and one day, Walter Eugene "Radar" O'Reilly was found dead – swinging gently from a tree just outside of the camp. 

And the war ended, and Hawkeye and Trapper went home, to their families, and eventually to each other. But they never forgot the young girl who brought them together.

***The End***

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